


In Memoriam

by littlerumbird



Series: Interstellar Oceans [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Imzadi (Star Trek)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlerumbird/pseuds/littlerumbird
Summary: Well, I fell into a space hole known as Star Trek The Next Generation planning to enjoy some light entertainment. And I fell HARD for Troi/Riker. This came out of 1.22 “The Skin of Evil" and overlaps with the end of the episode. I’m so soft for these two.
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Series: Interstellar Oceans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026340
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	In Memoriam

Will Riker has never seen her like this before. They’ve been through so much—together as the two of them, and the whole crew—but she hasn’t been through anything like this. Not alone. He had barely extricated himself from Dr. Crusher to meet Deanna on the holodeck.

She was pale and shaken, he could see it on her face. The angry red mark on the side of her cheek only served to enhance her pallor. He wouldn’t describe himself as anything beyond moderately intuitive. Years in the fleet had improved the modest amount nature had given him. But even he knew, simply by looking at her, that he didn’t need to tell her about Lieutenant Yar.

There were no words, merely Will crossing the distance along with several techs as they lifted the injured pilot and took the entire party back to sick bay. It was clear the techs could handle the pilot. And even if it wasn’t a long walk, his arm instinctively reached out, and she limped forward for a moment before he lifted her and followed the techs and to sick bay.

 _Imzadi_ , he thought, and he felt Deanna tremble even as she shook her head slightly. It wasn’t time for this. Not yet. They were guided to another exam area where he sat her on the nearest table before settling down beside her. They were both due for a full check over, and he was staying with her until they were urging him to return to his own medical scan on a separate bed.

This part became routine from Dr. Crusher’s assistant while she examined the pilot. There were protocols to be followed. It involved more scans for Will in the long-run than for either Deanna or the pilot. Hook ups to machines, various readings. In the end, nothing remarkable to show for any of it. But it was Deanna that even the doctor herself was more concerned over when she finally joined them, carefully reading over the results of tests and the report of the assistant who had already administered fluids for her dehydration and alleviated the handfuls of bumps, bruises, and wrenched muscles from the crash.

“Are you going to the memorial ceremony?” Dr. Crusher asked, tone neutral but with enough interest in the answer and her measured look that even Will could catch it.

“It’s important,” was the quiet reply from Deanna as she lay stretched out on the exam table, her left hand tucked into both of Will’s as he chaffed it lightly to warm it up. He thought the warming blanket would do more for that.

Will glanced between the women as the quiet stretched in sick bay. “Is it a bad idea?”

Dr. Crusher shook her head slightly. “I think the counselor is right—it’s important. Commander Riker, I’d like to run a second set of tests in a day, only to be on the safe side. I’d keep you for observation under normal circumstances, but there are no indications you are anything other than healthy. Counselor… after the funeral, I’d like you to take a few days of rest before resuming your duties.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Will promised. He wondered if it was simply that the doctor didn’t like Deanna’s color, either, or if there was more. Certainly the doctor would insist on holding either or both of them if she had serious reservations.

She pressed a vial into his hand. “And this. You’ll both sleep soundly.”

Deanna’s face told him that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but she didn’t protest outright. “Thank you,” was her only reply, her perpetual diplomacy rising even after such a long and trying ordeal.

After the short ceremony, Will was certain that they couldn’t reach Deanna’s quarters soon enough because he felt the first two sobs she choked down even before they made it inside the turbolift. The door panel had barely enclosed them before she broke, and Will pulled her to his chest. He knew she could feel his thoughts and concern, but he still focused on how much he hoped no one else would join them in the lift until they made it to the level where they both had quarters. When they finally reached the correct deck, one arm slid under her shoulders and he bent, the other sliding behind her knees to cradle her close.

Will knew that Deanna was strong, but she’s not used to this. She had a warm childhood with security. She’s known loss. The loss of her father was certainly difficult for her. But the aftershocks of this mission were affecting her much more deeply. It was the build-up of everything. And he immediately resolved to hold it together for the remarkable woman who always put the crew back together again and again.

“Almost there,” he murmured, thankful when an engineer down the passageway saw him coming and wisely did an about-face into a nearby storage area. He had nearly forgotten how neatly she fit against him, head tucked under his chin.

“It was awful,” she breathed against the crook of his neck. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t get out of my seat. And Ben… there was nothing from him... but everything from you. From Tasha…” Deanna shivered as he stepped into her quarters. He felt the fear and horror, the grasping for security of some kind.

Will turned the wrong direction at first because her quarters are a mirror of the layout of his. The hand that she reached up to hold his during Tasha’s ceremony curled around the lapel of his uniform as though she was afraid he will dematerialize if she let go. But before he could think about anything else, she tugged insistently at his arm.

“Will… the bin…”

He had barely enough time to snag a small bin press it into her hands before she gagged. But she hadn’t eaten food in at least a day or more, so there was nothing to come up. A visceral reaction, which shouldn’t surprise him. But it left her paler than ever, and he couldn’t help remembering that she had already been treated for dehydration once today.

“Should I call Dr. Crusher?”

She shook her head and swallowed hard. “Something to drink, though? Something hydrating?”

At the moment, he’d really rather call the doctor, but he nodded and ordered juice for himself and a mild tea to calm her stomach. It gave her time to struggle out of her boots and remove her communicator and set it on the bedside table beside the vial Crusher had given them earlier. Settling back beside her, he handed over the glass.

He was halfway through his own drink when he nodded toward the table. “How about a chaser?”

Her lip curled in distaste, and it didn’t escape his notice that she had slowed her drinking considerably. She always took her time to consider decisions, but this was clearly stalling. “Will, I dislike taking anything that would alter my thoughts.”

Despite her protest, he could see the strain the ordeal had caused. “I can understand that … but if you were your own patient, you wouldn’t rush to talk. You would urge rest first.”

A frown this time, and she took another sip of her drink. “Tasha’s gone. I felt it. I felt the distress from everyone. And I couldn’t do anything. I couldn't help you. Or Tasha. Or Ben. Or myself.” She swallowed hard.

“You’re exhausted. We both are. I’m worried about you, Deanna. So I’m giving you two choices: sick bay or this.” She had to see, surely she would, that this was the reasonable course. The moment after he thought it, Will couldn’t help but wince when indignant and hurt dark eyes met his. “Let me tuck you in, and then I’ll sleep in the lounge.” His quarters were one room closer to aft than hers, but he wasn’t willing to be even that far away. He drained his own cup and set it back in the synthesizer before moving to pick up the vial and twist off the top. Glancing to her, he downed his half and held it out. “Please?”

She accepted the vial and studied it for a long time.

“Imzadi, remember I can sense your thoughts, too,” he reminded gently.

“It’s very kind of you, but you can’t stay with me all day,” Deanna countered.

“I can for now. The captain’s orders were to see to you. And I’m not medically cleared, yet, so I _can_ stay at the moment.” He moved slowly, reaching down to find some of the pins keeping her thick hair in the twists and plaits.

Deanna lifted the vial and finally took a long drink before screwing on the cap and dully reaching over to set it on the side table along with the growing pile of pins. _Strange,_ she thought, before leaning forward and letting her head rest against his torso.

“Lights to low,” Will spoke, easing out another pin and running his fingers lightly through the twists to unwind them.

“Room to restore mode,” she mumbled, releasing a small sigh and giving him more of her weight as the lights went dimmer yet and a soft sound of waves filtered through the quiet. He knew the whole of it was finally hitting her, and it occurred to him as he finally let down the last of her hair that the front of his uniform was damp from her tears.

His hand cupped her head, and he moved slowly enough for her to understand as he eased her to lie down at last. “Sleep now, keep down your tea, and when you wake up we’ll have some chocolate, hmm?”

Her hand found his in the darkness, just as it had during Tasha’s ceremony. “Please stay with me.”

She truly does love freely. It’s her strength, but Will wondered if it’s also weighing her down at the moment. “Of course, Imzadi” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her hand that still cold. His communicator joined hers, but he walked to the other side of the bed before climbing in beside her.

They were still in their uniforms, but he was too tired to care. And he knew she would’ve said something sooner had it truly bothered her. It took some maneuvering to get under the covers. He should’ve pulled them down before he eased her down. Still, it was worth the effort to be stretched out.

Worth it all the more when Deanna shifted closer until her head was resting against his chest. He felt the query, and his arm draped over her back was his answer that it suited him just fine. She’s become quiet now, limp against his chest other than a final shiver. Will gave the blanket a firm tug, bringing it closer around her. She’ll end up hogging the blankets, but he won’t object. His arm wrapped firmer around her upper back, a vague memory floating up about something she mentioned about deep pressure and how it calms some neuro-system or other.

 _Autonomic and Parasympathetic_. The words were slow and drawn out in his mind. It made Will smile a bit to think of the way it would’ve have sounded aloud, mumbled with sleep.

 _Sssh…I’ll be here when you wake up_. Her sigh was her descent into sleep. He felt himself relaxing, too, only the soft waves breaking on a far-away shore to fill the quiet and lull him to his own rest. He would be here with her.


End file.
